Two Aurors and a Baby
by LVB
Summary: When trainee aurors Ron and Harry are on Christmas break, a dangerous task indeed befalls upon them: babysitting. What's an auror to do?
1. What Are Friends For?

**Two Aurors and a Baby**

**Author: **LVB

**Disclaimer: **Nothing in the world of Harry Potter belongs to me, end of story.

**Summary: ** When trainee aurors Ron and Harry are on Christmas break, a dangerous task indeed befalls upon them: babysitting. What's an auror to do?

**A/N:** So I've been absent from fanfiction for a while, so I may be a little rusty. I had a billion other angsty/dramatic plot bunnies to pursue but here's my attempt of humour...

I'm planning to have this go for about three or four chapters.

**Chapter One: What Are Friends For?**

Ron sat on his battered, yet comfortable couch and stretched his very long legs. Both he, and the infamous Harry Potter, were _officially_ on holidays. It was one week away from Christmas and while all the other wizarding folk were slaving away during the silly season, the aurors were lying back drinking butterbeer in Ron and Hermione's shared apartment.

Harry came out of the kitchen and threw another butterbeer at Ron, who caught it with ease. "Wicked," Ron replied lazily as Harry rolled his eyes and sat on the opposite couch.

"Next time you're getting up you lazy git," Harry remarked.

"Sod off, Potter," Ron snapped, just as the Floo began to shoot green sparks. "Oh, whoever it is, bugger off!" George's head appeared in the fire.

"And a very Merry Christmas to you, you grumpy bastard!"

Harry chuckled as Ron sat up, glaring at his brother through the flames. "Bloody hell, George, I just got home! Can't a bloke have some peace?" he whined.

George shook his head in reply. "Ickle Ronnie, when will you ever learn? You may be on holidays from that sausage-fest you call Auror training but lucky for you, your shop is in dire need of your assistance. I suggest you and Potter get your arses down here."

"I suggest you **piss off **George. Harry and I _just _got home, so unless Merlin is outside the store, jiggling around in his underwear singing "A cauldron of hot, strong love" then I reckon you've got no chance!"

George smirked. "Are you sure, Ronnie? I mean absolutely, downright, sure as you're shagging Granger sure?"

Ron's ears began to turn red. "SOD OFF, GEORGE!" he bellowed as Harry tried to stifle his laughter.

George sighed dramatically. "Some business partner you are, brother. Disappointing, indeed. Well, enjoy your afternoon doing whatever it is you and Potter do alone on romantic, snowy evenings. Don't say I didn't try and help!" With a final smirk, George cut the connection.

"Prick," Ron muttered under his breath.

"'Don't say I didn't try and help'," Harry repeated, puzzled. "What is that supposed to mean?" Ron shrugged in response.

"Who cares?"

Harry shook his head took another drink of his butterbeer. "Oi, have you got any Firewhiskey?"

Ron nodded. "I'll get it. It's in the top cupboard, where those who are vertically challenged aren't able to reach it."

Harry rolled his eyes and turned on the wireless, tuning it to the Quidditch. "Better hurry up mate, Puddlemere's about to come out."

Just as Ron came out of the kitchen, Firewhiskey and glasses in hand, the floo began to spark again.

"GEORGE! I TOLD YOU WE'RE NOT..."

Instead of George's smirking face, out stepped Arthur and Molly, clutching a screaming and red-faced Victoire. Molly handed Victoire to Arthur and picked up the small bag that had tumbled to the fireplace floor on the journey.

"Ron, thank goodness you're home!"

"Err, thanks Mum," Ron said, staring at his crying niece. "Nice to see you too. Why do you have Vic? Where's Bill?"

As Arthur bounced Victoire, Harry stared at her wide-eyed. He shifted his glasses nervously. "Is she alright?" he asked, pointing to Victoire.

"Hmm? Oh yes, quite alright, Harry. Molly had to wake her from her nap for the trip, you see. Much like Bill, she doesn't like being woken up with err, such loud noises," Arthur replied sheepishly.

"Bill," Molly started, glaring at Arthur, "and Fleur are in France for a wedding and they didn't want to take Victoire. Your father and I have her for the weekend. Well, supposed to anyway. There's been an emergency..."

Molly handed the bag to Ron, who was not expecting the deceivingly small carry case to be so heavy. He lurched and dropped the bag onto his foot. "Blood...err, _blimey_, Mum, what's in there? What emergency? Are they alright?"

"Nothing to worry about dear, Charlie's just got himself into a bit of an accident, is all. Burnt both his hands and broke a leg while he was training the new dragon at Gringott's. St. Mungo's just owled us asking us to go in." Molly took Victoire from Arthur and held her out towards Ron who simply stared.

"We're his emergency contacts, obviously," Arthur added, stooping down to coo at his granddaughter.

"And we can't very well take a baby there, it could be hours! You'll look after her, won't you? The both of you?"

Ron and Harry looked at one another. Killing a horcrux, no problem but a crying, red-faced, 18 month old Veela baby?

"Mum," Ron whispered as Molly unceremoniously shoved Victoire into his arms, "me and Harry have never babysat before! What about Percy? George? Andromeda? HAGRID?" he asked desperately.

"You'll be fine and everything you need is in the bag. Her next feeding is in two hours and then try and put her down for a nap. If she cries too much, find her favourite rattle and charm it to dance."

Molly gave Victoire a kiss on the forehead and followed suit with Ron and Harry. "Have fun, Victoire!" Molly cooed as she stepped into the fireplace.

"Good luck boys!" Arthur enthusiastically added before zooming away with his wife amongst a sea of green sparks.

Harry quickly downed a shot of Firewhiskey, straight from the bottle.

"What do you think you're doing mate?" Ron screeched, clumsily bouncing Victoire on his knee.

Harry shot him a look in response. "Well, I think I might head back to the flat..."

"No! Bloody hell Harry, you wouldn't abandon me in a time like this!" Ron pleaded. "I've never babysat alone before. Please, Harry, just until Hermione gets home."

Harry eyed Victoire who had surprisingly stopped crying and was looking straight at him. "Ry!" Victoire squealed.

"Bloody typical, she's a Weasley but the first word out of her mouth here is "Harry"!"

"Err, um, hello Victoire!" Harry replied awkwardly, wiggling his fingers in front of her face.

"Ry! Ry! Ronnnnnn. Ronnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn," Victoire squealed in delight.

"You can't leave her now, Harry. Look at her, she loves her Uncle Harry, don't you Vic?"

Victoire drooled in response.

"You owe me, Weasley," Harry muttered as Ron's eyes lit up. Harry picked up the bag Molly had left and opened it up on the dining table. "Blimey, how much stuff do babies need?" Peering into the bag, he delicately began pulling out items. Out came various toys, the nappy bag, the bottle and, much to Harry's surprise, a changing table and a feeding station. "It's like bloody Mary Poppins in here!"

"Merry who?"

"Mary Poppins, she's a Muggle...you know what, not important," Harry replied, trying to figure out how to set up the feeding chair. Suddenly, the chair began to unfold, which sent Harry flying into the fireplace.

Disturbed at the loud noise, Victoire began to cry.

It was going to be a long afternoon.


	2. Catastrophe

_Please see the first chapter for a disclaimer_

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed! This is only meant to be a silly little story and not to be taken too seriously. Enjoy :)

* * *

**Chapter Two: Cat-astrophe**

Ron had placed Victoire into Harry's reluctant arms, desperately searching for a quill. "_Accio Quill_!" he bellowed, much to the delight of his niece, who seemed to be enjoying his struggle. Although Harry had claimed the title of Teddy's godfather, his babysitting adventures were usually accompanied by Ginny, Hermione or Molly. This rendered him just about as useless as Ron and it was beginning to show.

"What are we supposed to do with her, Ron? Is she allowed to sit on the couch? Is she allowed to crawl? Bloody hell, Ron, we're going to need to _babyproof_ the flat!" Harry said, his voice becoming panicked. He turned Victoire around to face him, precariously balancing her on his knee in the shuffle. Victoire scrunched her nose and began swotting at his face, aiming for his glasses.

"How should I know where she can sit? Bloody hell, Mum didn't mention! She could hurt herself on practically anything in here, I reckon! Where is that _ruddy _quill!"

As Ron spied the quill underneath two of Hermione's textbooks, Victoire successfully snatched Harry's glasses off his face.

"Oi, those are mine!" Harry said, prying them from Victoire's small fingers.

Ron winced as he quickly scribbled a quick note to Hermione. If Victoire just had her newest toy taken away from her, then...

"RYYYYY!" Victoire wailed, her tiny fists balling up and her face turning a Weasley shade of red.

"Give her the damn glasses, Harry!" Ron snapped, reading over his note.

_Hermione,_

_Mum has left Victoire with me and Harry to babysit. Can you please hurry home?_

_Ron_

He quickly shoved the parchment to a waiting Pig's mouth and turned around to assess the situation. Harry was rocking Victoire and he had reluctantly handed over his beloved glasses. However, Victoire was not to be swayed.

Harry held out Victoire to Ron who took her from his arms. "It's okay, Vic. Uncle Ron has you. Not like that mean, old nasty Uncle Harry!"

"Sod off," Harry muttered, under his breath.

Victoire continued to cry. Suddenly, Pig flew back through the window, unceremoniously dropping a letter into Harry's waiting hands. Pig hooted indignantly and returned to his perch.

"It's from Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, trying desperately to keep a now-screaming Victoire away from his precious ears. "What are you waiting for, a bloody invitation? Read it out."

"Dear Ron, well lovely to see you saw fit to owl me that you've returned home. Unfortunately I am unable to drop everything at the last minute but I'll be home at my normal time. You and Harry will be fine, just keep her fed and happy and follow any instructions your mum has given you. Oh and Ron, make sure you don't let her near Crookshanks, he's been a bit cranky and I'm afraid he might take a few swipes at her. Good luck, I'll see you soon. Love, Hermione." Harry read. "Oh, and PS it's 'Harry and I'."

Ron's face was as white as a sheet. "I forgot about Crookshanks,"

"Ron," Harry said, quietly, staring at Victoire, who was now quiet. Harry followed her gaze to the floor, where Crookshanks sat, in all his ginger glory.

Victoire stared at the cat, fascinated. "Piss off, Crookshanks!" Ron said angrily, attempting to edge him away with his foot. Harry winced as the cat promptly scratched the bottom of Ron's leg with a loud hiss.

"I'LL KILL YOU ONE OF THESE DAYS, YOU MANGY ANIMAL!" Ron bellowed as he held Victoire above his head and tried to kick the cat again. As Crookshanks slipped out of Victoire's view, she began to wail again.

"You've got to be kidding me," Ron lamented as Harry tried to get closer to Crookshanks, with little success.

"Here, Crookshanks. Come on, Crookshanks. Victoire just wants to have a look..." Harry barely had time to move before Crookshanks viciously turned on him. "Stupid cat," Harry muttered under his breath, just as Victoire began to point and giggle. Crookshanks growled in response.

"Quick, Harry, go and get one of the toys from her bag and enchant it to fly, maybe that'll distract her," Ron suggested, unwilling to let Hermione's evil cat go near his precious niece.

Harry cautiously edged his way over to the baby bag, aware that any sudden or unfavourable movements could result in a rabid cat or a screaming baby. He picked up her toy rattle and charmed it to shake and float all around the flat.

"There you go, my little princess," Ron cooed and tried to direct Victoire's attention away from the growling cat and to her favourite toy. Alas, his efforts went unrewarded. Ron struggled to keep a hold of her as she began to twist and turn her body to catch glimpse of her newest friend.

"How long do Kneazles live for anyway?" Harry pondered aloud.

"Not helping!" Ron protested.

Crookshanks had stopped hissing for a moment to look Ron dead in the eyes. He then sat on his spot on the floor, practically daring Ron and Victoire to pass. Victoire squealed in delight.

As the scene unfolded in front of them, Harry scrunched up his nose. Something was definitely...different in the air. Something didn't smell quite right.

As it dawned on Harry, he stared at Ron and Victoire in horror.

"What? What're you looking at me like that for?" Ron asked, glancing between Crookshanks, Victoire and Harry.

And then, Ron smelt it.

"Err, Ron, I think Victoire needs to be changed."


	3. The Change Table Debacle

**Chapter Three: The Change Table Debacle **

Ron's face turned a disturbing shade of green. "Changed?"

Harry nodded.

"You mean, like..."

Harry nodded again.

Ron extended his arms, holding a gurgling Victoire as if she were a Blast-Ended Skrewt. "That's disgusting!"

"Rrrrrron!" squealed Victoire as she struggled to stare at Crookshanks who hadn't moved from his spot on the floor.

Harry ducked as the shaking rattle nearly smacked him in the head, causing Crookshanks to momentarily switch his concentration. Ever the auror, Ron took advantage of the situation and, while still clutching his niece in his outstretched arms, sidestepped Hermione's growling cat.

Harry quickly followed suit and both stared at the change table that was in front of the couch. Ron shoved Victoire into Harry's unsuspecting hands. "Here, you do it."

"Are you mental, Ron?" Harry asked, handing Victoire back.

"Why do I have to do it? You've babysat and changed Teddy loads of times!" Ron reasoned, handing her back.

Harry looked scandalised. "Teddy's a _boy_!"

"So? You've clearly had more experience than me."

"I don't care. She's your niece, you arse!"

"What do you mean, you don't care? Shove off, Potter! Besides, you have been part of this family since you were eleven too, y'know."

"That doesn't count."

"Why the hell not? You're dating Ginny! You're Victoire's uncle just as much as I am!"

Harry glared at Ron and realised he was still holding Victoire. He shoved her back into Ron's arms, which were still outstretched.

"No."

"Yes."

"I said, NO!"

"You've fought You-Know-Who and you can't change a baby? That's insane!"

"You were there too!"

"I didn't kill him, did I?"

"Killed enough Death Eaters though. Brilliant Auror, suave businessman and you won't even help your poor, defenceless niece get out of her own soiled nappy!"

Harry smirked as Ron had the decency to look ashamed, as he stared at Victoire, who at that moment, looked positively angelic. She beamed at him. "Rrrrronnnnn!"

Ron sighed. "You're a git, Potter."

Harry happily summoned a clean nappy, but frowned when he realised that, as was common wizarding practice, the nappy was only a square, white cloth. Ron had finally put Victoire down onto the change table.

"Merlin," Harry breathed. "What are you supposed to do with this thing?"

"No idea mate. Can you hurry up, keeping a squirming baby down isn't as easy as it looks."

Harry fumbled with the white square. He was certain his Aunt Petunia had used disposable nappies. It had been a long time since he had changed Teddy's nappy. Surely he could remember...

"I reckon you're supposed to fold it over," Ron suggested. Harry nodded in agreement. He folded it in half.

"That doesn't look right."

Harry rolled it lengthways.

"Bloody hell!"

Harry took it and folded it in half diagonally and dropped it on the change table.

Ron snatched Victoire's dancing rattle out of the hair and gave it to her. He took a deep breath. "Merlin, give me strength."

Harry scrunched his nose as a foul smell penetrated the air. The sound of Ron nearly choking quickly followed.

"That is vile!" Harry said, turning his head to try and find some fresh air. He found none.

"That's disgusting! Quick, Harry, take the old one!"

Harry stared in horror as Ron shoved the dirty nappy into his hands. Ron quickly shoved the fresh nappy onto Victoire. Harry Vanished the mess and cast a quick _scourgify_ on the cloth.

"How do you stick it down?"

"How should I know?"

"You've changed Teddy's nappy before," Ron pointed out.

"Only a few times, Ron. Andromeda did it mostly."

Ron took out his wand and pointed it to the nappy, performing a sticking charm. "Reckon that'll hold."

Harry slapped Ron on the back. "That was brilliant!"

Victoire started to cry. Ron gently picked her up. "What's wrong now, Vic?"

Her cries suddenly turned to shrieks. Ron looked alarmed. "What happened? She was fine! You're not wet already are you?"

Harry turned his attention to the kitchen. "Reckon she's probably hungry."


	4. Hungry, Hungry Hippogriffs

**Chapter Four: Hungry, Hungry Hippogriffs**

Ron groaned. "She's hungry? Will this _ever_ end?"

"Molly did say her next feeding would be in two hours," Harry pointed out.

"Well it feels like it's been about ten," Ron groaned as he bounced Victoire on his leg. "Get the bag, you unhelpful flobberworm."

Harry summoned the bag and rifled through. "I don't see a bottle in here."

"Well look _harder_," Ron insisted as Victoire's shrieks infiltrated his ears. "For a so-called Chosen One, you're not particularly useful!"

"Oi, I resent that!" Harry called as several toys came flying at Ron and Victoire. Harry then spied the feeding station that was next to Ron and Hermione's dining table. "Aha!"

Harry triumphantly held up the empty bottle. "Found it!"

Ron's face crinkled. "Why's it empty?" Victoire noticed her bottle and her shrieking became quieter.

"'ottle!"

"Yes, Vic, that's your bottle," Ron cooed and turned his attention back to Harry. "Go fill it!"

Harry nodded. "Right okay. This part is easy, yeah? Just fill the bottle with milk."

Harry made his way into the kitchen and eagerly opened the fridge.

"There's no milk here," Harry said slowly. "Ron, why isn't there any milk in your fridge?"

Ron began to panic. "Bloody hell, Hermione!" he cursed. "She didn't go shopping yet. Bloody shagging bollocks!"

Harry held up his hands. "There's no need to panic yet. I'll go out and get some."

Ron visibly relaxed. "Yeah okay. That's fine. You'll go out and get the milk. I'll stay here with Victoire."

Harry nodded. "Right. I'll just go then. Down the street there's a Muggle store, isn't there?"

"Yeah, just take some of Hermione's Muggle money- over there on the counter."

Victoire stared at Harry as he rummaged through the pile of papers on the counter, pulling a face through her whimpers.

"Ron, 'ottle?" she asked as her tiny hands grabbed his earlobe.

"Don't you worry Vic, Uncle Harry is going to get you some milk!" Ron said enthusiastically.

Suddenly, a thought struck Ron. "You're going to get milk."

Harry finally found the small purse full of Muggle money. "Down the street," Harry confirmed.

"And I'm staying here with Victoire."

"Yes, Ron. Want me to write that down and stick it on the fridge for you?"

"I'm going to be here with Victoire, _alone_."

Harry sighed and adjusted his glasses. "Yes, Ron. Blimey, they let _you_ into the Auror program?"

Ron's voice raised an octave. "But...alone here with Victoire? What if she starts howling again? What if Crookshanks comes back? What if she needs to be changed again?"

"I'll only be gone ten minutes," Harry reasoned. "Less if I could just Apparate."

Ron looked scandalised. "TEN minutes? You might as well be gone for four hours!"

"'ottle!" Victoire interjected.

"Ron, look at Vic. She's hungry. You're her uncle. If Bill found out that you let her go hungry because you're terrified of cleaning up some more poop, he'd be ripping your bollocks off. Your mum too."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, you're right. You're right. Well stop standing around doing nothing you daft git, move your arse and get Vic her milk!"

Harry slapped Ron's arm. "That's the spirit!"

Harry gave a final wave and the door closed softly behind him. Ron stared at the door for a few seconds as Victoire sighed wistfully. "Ry," she lamented.

Ron finally decided that he would be buggered if another person chose Harry's company over his own again.

"Don't you worry about him," Ron crooned. "Uncle Ron is here!"

Victoire seemed overly unimpressed. "Food!"

Ron laughed and held Victoire high above his head. "Flying hippogriffs!" he shouted as Victoire began to gurgle with happiness.

"Rarrr, woo, avoid the Whomping Willow!"

Suddenly, Ron spied a bright pink container poking out of Victoire's bag. He gently pulled Victoire down and after kissing her head, placed her into the feeding station.

"Food?"

Ron crouched down and yanked the pink container out of the bag. A note was attached.

_Victoire's dinner. Cast a warming charm._

Ron groaned as he thought of Harry, outside in the snow, looking for milk for their niece.

Victoire began to point. "Food," she repeated, impatiently.

It dawned on Ron that this was clearly Harry's fault for not noticing it the first time.

"Your uncle is a bit of a git," Ron said to Victoire as he cast a warming charm on the container. "He could fight Voldemort well enough with those ruddy glasses, but always seems to miss the smaller things."

Victoire happily clapped as Ron tore the lid off and sniffed the sloppy, green baby food.

"This is disgusting!"

With a grimace, Ron summoned a spoon. "Alright, here comes the hippogriff!"

Victoire laughed as her eyes followed the spoonful of food. As soon as the food reached her mouth however, it clamped shut.

Ron poked the spoon into her mouth. Nothing.

"Come on," Ron urged, trying again.

Still, Victoire's mouth was clamped shut.

"Come onnnnnnnnnn, Victoire."

A minute passed.

"It's time for food, Vic."

"Little Vicky!"

Finally, Victoire grinned and opened her mouth. Ron quickly shoved the food in his mouth and laughed triumphantly.

"This babysitting thing is easy," he boasted to her. "You are such a good baby, yes you are!"

As Ron cooed, Victoire floated the contained of food into her waiting hands.

Ron stared in disbelief. "Did you just...bloody hell Vic! Did you just do your first bit of magic?"

In response, Victoire took out a large handful of her food and flung it straight at her newfound favourite uncle.

"RON!"

The sound of the baby food hitting Ron's face was joined by the sound of the front door slamming.

"Ron, sorry I took so long..."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and immediately burst out laughing. "Ron, in your hair..."

As Ron glared daggers at the Visionless One, a happy smile appeared on Victoire's face.

"Heads up, Uncle Harry!"

Ron stared as another glob of baby food went flying through the air, landing straight on Harry's glasses.

"Bring up a chair, we're playing Hungry, Hungry Hippogriffs."


	5. Curse Words and Happily Ever After

**A/N:** This is it, folks! The last part of this fic is deliciously fluffy. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed and enjoyed this!

**Chapter Five: Curse Words and Happily Ever After  
**

Hungry, Hungry Hippogriffs had been difficult at first, but once Harry had finally sat his arse down, Victoire had been more receptive to eating. On the downside, she also found great delight in flinging her food all around the apartment.

Ron tried to ignore globs of baby food that adorned every surface in the kitchen. It was the green baby food to boot. It was on their fridge, on the chairs, the table and Merlin's beard, it was even on the spare cauldron Hermione had left out the night before.

Harry coughed and removed his glasses, wiping them down with what was likely to be the only clean thing in the house—his own shirt. And as soon as he did that, Victoire scooped out the very last of the green mush and kindly flung it onto Harry.

"Oi!" Harry protested.

"Matches your eyes, mate," Ron laughed as he removed the fourteenth glob from his hair.

"Shut it," Harry advised and turned to stare at Victoire. "You're a very naughty baby, you know that."

"Ry baby," Victoire replied and Ron beamed.

"That's right, Potter is a big baby! You're so smart, my little veela," he cooed and Harry stared in disbelief.

"Did you just call her 'your little veela' and coo?"

"Yeah, what of it?" Ron defended. "It's not like you are Number One Uncle, are you, you blighter?"

"I helped!"

Ron snorted, which caused Victoire to wave her hands around in support. "Hardly. I hope you don't get the daft idea to knock my sister up. You're a useless git and she'd be dumping the kid with me and Hermione."

Harry stood and sent the mess to the kitchen sink with a flick of his wand. "You're an arse."

It was then that Victoire, in her melodious baby sing-song voice loudly said, "ARSE."

The plate that Ron was holding dropped to the ground as both he and Harry just gaped at the angelic-looking child who was cursing in the kitchen.

"Oh no," Harry moaned. "What do we do?"

"Don't ask me, this is your fault!" Ron boomed. He picked up his niece. "That is a very bad word, Vic."

"Arse."

"Bill is going to kill us," Harry moaned again, walking over to the pair of Weasleys. "No, Victoire, you shouldn't say that word."

"Ron, arse!" she exclaimed happily.

"Well, at least she got _that_ part right," Harry muttered, earning a slap from Ron.

"Not helping," he said gruffly.

Harry sighed. "She's a baby, she doesn't know what she's saying. If we tell her no, she's just going to keep saying it. I reckon our best bet is to play dumb and deny it if Bill ever asks."

Ron's eyes went wide. "It's not him I'm worried about, Harry." He leaned closer to him conspiratorially. "What if she says it in front of Mum?"

"Ry!" Victoire said and pointed to Harry.

"Oh, are you sure you don't want to stay with Uncle Ron?" Harry pleaded with the infant. Ron grinned triumphantly as Victoire shook her head and in her own way, demanded to be handed over to her other Uncle.

"You are pretty adorable," he said as Victoire settled in his arms and grabbed his ear, admiring her as she yawned.

"Reckon its naptime," Ron mused and went to the bag to set up the cot. His face dropped as he realised that his mother hadn't packed it.

"Blimey Mum," he lamented. "Harry, Mum forgot to—"

A snore punctuated his sentence. He turned around to see Harry lying on the couch, dead asleep, Victoire sleeping soundly on his chest. Despite himself, Ron smiled. The chair next to them called to him and within moments, he too was snoring softly.

o0o

Ron was miles away when the sound of the Floo interrupted his rest. He didn't move though, safe in the knowledge that whoever was there, probably wouldn't get zapped by the wards.

He heard three pairs of footsteps.

"Molly, would you look at that?"

"That is possibly the most adorable thing I've ever seen," a familiar voice whispered. "Oh Hermione dear, I'm sorry about your kitchen."

"Its fine, Molly. You'd be surprised at how often an adult male makes that kind of mess anyway."

"Oh well, at least he got some practice. Both of them did."

"Should we wake them?" the male voice asked anxiously.

"I can bring her over later, if you'd like?"

"That would be wonderful, thank you dear."

The Floo activated again and Ron felt lips press into his head. "I know you're awake," Hermione whispered.

Ron opened one eye and saw Hermione's beaming face looking back at him. "Hi."

"Vic?" he asked groggily.

"She and Harry are still asleep," Hermione confirmed. Ron opened his arms and Hermione climbed onto his lap.

"Sorry 'bout the kitchen," Ron mumbled, adjusting himself and Hermione and burying his face in her hair.

"Don't worry about it. I see you survived?"

Ron looked at Harry and grinned. "I reckon we'll make great parents. That tosser on the other hand, well..."

Hermione gently swatted him. "I'm rather tired myself. Mind if I join your nap?"

Ron nodded and as they both joined Victoire and Harry in sleep, Ron's thoughts drifted to the ring burning a hole in his Auror robes. He had survived his first babysitting adventure and now, he was certain that he wanted to undertake his own happily ever after.


End file.
